500,000 ideas run through my mind
all those ideas
and still i am blind

as soon i find a verse
it is lost with my curse
before it can be written down
the words get mixed
and then unfound

as i travel though out my day
the words hit me like a spray
the mist as it seems be
fogs my head
and displeases me

one time they seem so good
but then they get lost and misundstood
every now and then i recall
the blues and feeling as I fall

and then when I have time to compose
i am empty from head to my toes
i get lost in my dispair
as my thoughts turn into thin air

i hunger to express my creativity
for who cares and would like to see

but there is prison that confines my thoughts
and holds me back

fear of rejection
the courage i lack

Chronic Creativity
may not be my curse
but incomplete and random thoughts
seem so much worse

if I could just empty my head
have no thoughts
simply peace instead

yet everday the words come and go
truncated thoughts
to incomplete to....................